“Mila, please.” Bianca’s voice wavered, but she held Mila’s gaze. “Let’s just keep this between us. For now. Please?”
Mila breathed deeply. “Okay.”
They sat in silence for a while, the weight of the conversation lingering between them. The room was dim, lit only by the porch light shining through the window and the soft glow of a nearby lamp. Bianca shifted slightly, adjusted her position.
“You hurting?” Mila asked gently.
Bianca gave her a light smile. “Mostly just tired.”
“Do you have meds?”
“Something for the nausea.” Bianca exhaled. “In the kitchen.”
Mila stood. “I’ll get them.”
She walked into the kitchen. Bianca heard her opening cabinets, then running water. She returned with Bianca’s orange prescription bottle and a glass filled with water.
“Here you go,” she said softly.
Bianca took a pill and drank slowly. “Thank you.”
Mila sat back down, gently reached for the blanket, and pulled it over her mother’s legs.
“You want to lie down?” she asked.
Bianca nodded.
Mila helped her ease back onto the couch. She adjusted the pillows, tucking one behind Bianca’s back. Mila sat beside her again, not speaking—just resting her hand lightly on her mother’s forearm.
“I’m glad you came,” Bianca whispered.
“I am too,” Mila said. “I didn’t know how much I needed to.”
Bianca closed her eyes, the tension slowly leaving. Her heart was full.
And for the first time in a long time, they sat—not in grief or anger—but in something that felt more like love.
Daylight poured in through the kitchen window. Bianca slid a pan of bacon into the oven, scrambled some eggs in a bowl, and dropped a few slices of bread into the toaster. The smell of coffee filled the space as it began to brew.
Mila walked into the kitchen, rubbing her eyes, her hair tousled.
“How was the bed?” Bianca asked without turning.
“Super comfy.” Mila leaned against the counter.
“Good.” Bianca moved around the kitchen while Mila watched.
“I need to tell you something,” Mila began. “Something happened during Christmas break.”
Bianca poured coffee into a mug. Then she stopped and tensed up. “What kind of something?”
“I was at a frat party during Christmas. My friend Keisha and I. Somebody slipped something into my drink—I think. Next thing I knew, I was passed out, naked, alone. I didn’t know what happened. Still don’t.”
Bianca froze. Tears brimmed her eyes, but she fought them.
Mila kept going. “I went to the clinic. They confirmed that I was raped.”
A sound escaped Bianca’s mouth—sharp and involuntary. Her body became tense immediately. The pain in her chest was sharp. She wanted to scream as she listened to her daughter’s words.Had she really heard them correctly?She set down her coffee mug. “Oh my God, Mila …”